A priest walked into a barber shop in Washington, D.C. After he got his haircut, he asked how much it would be. The barber said, "No charge. I consider it a service to the Lord." The next morning, the barber came to work and there were 12 prayer books and a thank you note from the priest in front of the door.

Later that day, a police officer came in and got his hair cut. He then asked how much it was. The barber said, "No charge. I consider it a service to the community." The next morning, he came to work and there were a dozen donuts and a thank you note from the police officer.

Then, a Senator came in and got a haircut. When he was done he asked how much it was. The barber said, "No charge. I consider it a service to the country." The next morning, the barber came to work and there were 12 Senators in front of the door.

This is why the concept of a "Purge" (as depicted in the 2013 movie 'The Purge', and again in the coming sequel) could never work in society as we know it:

*At an undisclosed Chicago location, where 'Minute Men' missile are kept, two Soldiers monitor radars for Government security, and stand ready to launch their intercontinental ballistic missiles at moments notice in the event of a threat.*

The soldiers listen as the annual purge announcement is broadcast live to civilians across the country. Frank's brow furrows as he again tries to grasp the concept of purging, and the supposed good that it brings. Failing again for the un-teenth time, he sighs and thanks his lucky stars that he safe inside a secure government building. He glanced over at Tim, his long time partner, and noted his concentration on checking the security levels above ground.

"Everything O.K. over there Tim?" Frank asked.

"Swell, looked like one of the doors jammed on the upper level, but it's good."

"Annual Purge has rolled out, how are we above and below?" Frank asked, regarding security measures.

"Looking good, going to initiate total lock down into this room. Just you and me buddy, for the next twelve hours." Tim joked.

"Every year for 10 years now." Frank realized.

Tim turned the conversation to a lighter topic. "So you watch the game last night? Man, the Lions tore apart our front line again."

"I lost fifty fucking dollars to Ed in IA, I thought we had that game in the back. Bears couldn't convert a third down to save their life.

"Right? And that asshole on the Lions defense, he didn't get called for one damn foul. Like the refs were blind!" Tim yelled.

"Yeah! God, I hate Detroit." Frank lamented.

Tim and Frank suddenly stopped talking. There was a few moments of silence before both of them made eye contact. Tim slowly nodded and Frank rolled his chair in front of the computer screen. He hesitated as he lifted the square glass box over the red button. He glanced back at Tim and found him entering coordinates into the system. Frank stared at the bare launch button before him, his hand shaking slightly above it.

"Do it Frank. We're just purging ourselves of our hatred for the city, and its football team." Tim said once the correct location was targeted.

Frank look to Tim and nodded, fire in his eyes. "Yeah. Fuck Detroit."

There was a loud rushing noise outside, and then a roaring that faded in the distance. Several minutes of complete silence followed, and then finally Frank cleared his voice.